


Rainbow

by thomasjeffersonsmacaroni



Series: The Other 51 [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Era, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thomasjeffersonsmacaroni/pseuds/thomasjeffersonsmacaroni
Summary: Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton see colors.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this made me ship Hamburr  
> I'm still a Jamilton hoe but now I'm also a Hamburr hoe let me tell you

**Red**

Alexander Hamilton was at Princeton University when he started seeing red.

"Has anyone else finished early?" he was asking one of his professors.

"Oh, of course. But it's really rare, and I don't think you can handle it."

"I can handle it," Alex snapped, slamming his palms on the desk.

"James Madison was stricken with panic attacks. And Aaron Burr-"

" _Wait._ "

Something flashed in Alexander's vision: the man's cheeks, the apple on his desk, a painting on the wall behind him.

"Yes, sir?"

It was gone, as if it had never been there. But it had. It  _had._

"Nothing.

 

A couple of days later, it stopped being a flash, and there was full-on color in his world of black and white.

"Someone's my soulmate," he whispered to the plants growing in his dorm. There were still grey, but if the legend was true, they wouldn't be soon enough. "Someone's my  _soulmate!"_

More than anything now, more than even getting a scholarship to King's College, he wanted to know who it was.

 

**Orange**

_Aaron Burr will be in the city, near the pub, this afternoon. Maybe you can find him there._

Alexander reread the note in his hand, butterflies rising in his stomach as he took in the words' meanings again and again and again.

 _Aaron Burr._ The  _Aaron Burr._

There was a crowd in front of the pub, because it was a summer afternoon. Alexander shoved through it, looking for someone who matched the description that the other students had given him.

None of them were the right person. No one's eyes were the right color, or their face the right shape, or their attitude the right attitude.

Somewhere in the middle of that search, he started seeing orange.

 

**Yellow**

The sun was yellow. Alexander realized that as he walked through the crowd, seeing more and more flashes as he touched more people's shoulders than he could count in his continued search for Aaron Burr. As he received "watch where you're going"s and responded with "sorry"s, he began to lose more and more of his hope.

Until he finally saw him.

 

**Green**

The brooch that was on Aaron's coat was green, as was the grass behind them. Somehow, even though he had never seen the color before in his life, the word association came naturally, as if it had always been there.

"Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" he asked hesitantly, tapping him on the shoulder.

Aaron Burr turned around. There was obviously suspicion in his eyes, which were narrowed into slits as he spoke.

"That depends. Who's asking?"

Suddenly, Alex felt a tinge of fear. Here was his  _hero,_ talking to him, listening to what he had to say.

_I can't mess this up._

He laughed softly. "Oh, sure, sir. I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service, sir. I have been looking for you."

Aaron's eyes narrowed even harder, and he took a small step back and away from him. "I'm getting nervous."

_Keep talking. Keep talking._

"Sir, I heard your name at Princeton. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours. I may have punched him. It's a blur, sir. He handles the financials?"

"...You punched the bursar?" Now Aaron's eyes were wide in shock.

"Yes! I wanted to do what you did graduate in two then joined the revolution. He looked at me like I was stupid. I'm  _not_ stupid." And he wasn't. Maybe Aaron would be impressed.

"So, how'd you do it? How'd you graduate so fast?"

Aaron sighed and turned back around. "It was my parents' dying wish before they passed."

He was walking away when Alexander was hit with the realization, like a flash of lightning.

"You're an orphan!" he exclaimed in delight. "Of course! I'm an orphan. God, I wish there was a war! Then we can prove that we're worth more than anyone bargained for-"

"Can I buy you a drink?" Aaron had turned around and was looking at him with a kind smile on his face.

"That would be nice." Alexander was practically speechless. His idol,  _his idol,_ had  _smiled_ at him. And was asking him out to a drink.

"While we're talking, let me offer you some free advice."

Alexander stood up just a little bit straighter.

"Talk less."

"What?" No on had ever told Alex to talk less. And the last person he would expect to be the first was Aaron Burr himself.

"Smile more," Aaron continued.

Alexander chuckled softly in a weak attempt at hiding his discomfort.

"Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for."

"You can't be serious." But he was, if his face was to be believed.

"You want to get ahead?"

"Yes."

"Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead."

Alexander didn't want to be dead. But he also didn't want to "talk less" and "smile more." And so it was around that moment that he lost his undying faith in Aaron Burr.

 

**Blue**

" _Don't modulate the key then not debate with me! Why should a tiny island across the sea regulate the price of tea?"_

"Alexander, please!"

Aaron Burr was carrying him,  _carrying him in his arms,_ away from the soapbox and away from Samuel Seabury.

"Burr," Alexander protested, trying to no avail to wriggle out, "I'd rather be divisive than indecisive, drop the niceties-"

Aaron rolled his eyes and finally set him down on a bench in a park that was a little ways away.

"Alexander," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder and staring him in the face, "you can't just tell everyone ever single one of your opinions. People  _die_ from that. And you're smart. I don't want you to die."

"I would die for my opinions," Alexander protested. And he would. He was like a glass of beer, and his opinions were pouring into him and then pouring out. He couldn't control it. He  _wouldn't_ control it.

"I know you would," whispered Aaron. "I'm not saying that you wouldn't. I'm saying that I don't  _want_ you to."

"Okay, but did you hear me destroy him? What was your favorite insult? Mine was 'My dog speaks more eloquently than thee, but strangely your mange is the same.'" He grinned widely.

Aaron kept his face still as stone, but then he smiled, and that turned into hysterical laughter. "Mine was 'Honestly, look at you, please don't read!'"

Alexander giggled. "That was a good one, too. See what happens when I don't talk less or smile more?"

"Point taken," Aaron grinned. "Maybe sometimes you can do that. Maybe sometimes."

The sky behind him was a beautiful light blue color, covered with fluffy white clouds. A thought tugged at the back of Alex's mind, but he pushed it away. He would push it away for another thirty years.

 

**Indigo**

Laurens's coat still had the same black and white look, standing out sharply against the fleshy tones of his skin and the gold buttons that decorated his outfit. He was beautiful, pink lips so kissable, and his eyes were the kind of chocolaty brown that you could get lost in.

Eliza had a smile that made him fall apart whenever she shone it at him. Her eyes were black, so bright and so innocent, and she always wore a dress that was light blue, just like the sky on the day they got married. It was silky and smooth, just like her skin whenever he ran a hand across it.

Angelica, her older sister, matched his wits at every step, and he would be lying if he said that he didn't think about how she was even smarter than him. Her dress was pink, which seemed to be a blend of red and white, and her skin was a dark earthy color.

Thomas Jefferson had beautiful, dark brown hair, and the coat that he liked to wear was a mixture of Angelica's pink, perhaps a bit darker, and some sort of color that Alexander was unable to see. The man himself was damn frustrating, but Alexander would be damned if he didn't think about that perfect figure of his some nights when he was alone.

And Maria Reynolds, she was all guilt and sin and red, red, red. That was all that he could bring himself to say about her.

But none of them were Aaron Burr.

Alexander didn't know why he thought about Aaron Burr so often. The man was almost as frustrating as Jefferson, always tugging at his sleeve and pulling him back, always so angry at the entire world. He supposed that it was because of all the time that he spent thinking about colors, and soulmates, and how after a day's careful analysis, Aaron fucking Burr had been there every time he had seen a new color.

_Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue._

Indigo was next, according to a book on colors that he had found in the library, and he would see it when he realized that he loved his soulmate. When he realized that he loved Aaron Burr.

Also known as, never.

 

_I don't want to fight, but I won't apologize for doing what's right. I have the honor to be your obedient servant, A.Ham._

Yep, never. Especially because of the very real possibility that he would die soon. Die defending his opinion, just like Aaron Burr had said, on that sunny night when Alexander had seen blue.

On that sunny afternoon, Aaron had been so beautiful. Skin so very smooth, smile warm and soft, voice rich like some sort of perfect spot between hot chocolate and velvet.

Alexander hadn't known it, but he had fallen to pieces under Aaron Burr's voice. And soon, he would fall to pieces under Aaron Burr's gun.

The flashes came again, just like when he had seen red, as he looked at his coat and the painting of himself and his family on the wall. On the morning, of the duel, they finally solidified into a color that he instantly labelled as indigo.

 

**Purple**

Just before Aaron saw a new color, he realized that he loved Alexander Hamilton. Then, he realized that he was absolutely screwed.

He hated it, hated it more than he hated any other feeling that he had ever felt, hated that out of the thousands of people in America alone, the one person that he loved most was also the one person that he was going to shoot the next day.

But it was fact. And what was also fact was that they had gone too far to turn back now.

 

On the morning of the duel, all of the love that Aaron had felt the night before had been masked while he was sleeping by a feeling of intense anger. Alexander had  _crushed_ any chance that he had of being president. He had  _destroyed_ his career. And in every place where Aaron had failed, Alexander was there, causing him to. Everything that had happened to him was Alexander's fault.

And Alexander just _had_ to be his soulmate. Of all the fucking people.

 

His friend William P. Van Ness was silent as they rowed across the river. You always had to be silent before a duel, so you didn't break the dueler's concentration. That was the rule.

Alexander was in a separate boat with his own friend Nathaniel Pendleton and a doctor whose name he had mentioned, but that Aaron didn't remember. The boat was only a small speck to Aaron, one that he had to squint to see. It was only after about half an hour that they stood face to face, pistols in hand. Alexander opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then he decided against it. And Aaron, too, felt as if there was something that he wanted to say, but he wasn't sure what it was.

So they turned around and counted their paces.  _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

Alexander was smaller now, so small and vulnerable, even though he had a gun in his hand and was pointing it down.

They didn't fire yet. Both of them were checking their pistols, making sure that they worked. And Alexander was whispering something - Aaron could see his mouth moving - but he didn't know what it was.

The moment when he pointed his gun forward was when he began to see the flashes. Colors became brighter, those of the sky as the sun already began to rise and those of the flowers on the ground, the rainbow finally completing itself with the final stage.

_Purple shows when you and your soulmate confess your love to each other._

"I love you," Alexander was saying, louder now, finally. Aaron finally heard him, though his tired brain only registered the words as he fired his pistol forward and saw Alexander fire it up.

Everything slowed down.

"WAIT!" Aaron screamed, reaching forward helplessly as if he could pick up the bullet and suck it back in. But it was too late.

The bullet landed right between his ribs, and Aaron was whispering to himself and trying to go to him, though he wasn't sure why. But William was pulling him back, pulling him away to their boat so that they could go back to New York City, go back into hiding so that Aaron wasn't arrested for murder.

Because he had murdered Alexander. He had murdered his soulmate.

"You don't understand," Aaron wailed as he looked at William. "You don't understand, I need to go to him, _I need to go to him!_ "

 _I need, I need, I need._ Those two words formed a rhythm in Aaron's mind, and each one felt like he was shooting another bullet in between Alexander's ribs. And each one of those felt like ten bullets were shot through his brain, but some sort of cruel god was keeping him alive.

Purple finally arrived when he and William rented a hotel under different names, and Aaron was standing at the window and looking out at the streets.

"I love you, Alexander," he whispered to the cool midnight air. "I will always love you."

The colors were all there, but he was crying so hard that it was too blurry to see them properly.

 

**But then...**

Aaron and William were fleeing into a different city, a different state, perhaps if it came to it a different country. There was so much travelling during the thirty hours after the duel. During the first thirty hours after the  _murder._

Aaron was seeing all of the colors, but he didn't have time to enjoy them. And then, during lunch two days after, they disappeared completely.

Everything was black and white. Alexander Hamilton was officially, legally dead.

And the rainbow would never come back.


End file.
